We stopped touching one another on a Wednesday. Or was it Tuesday? Information came at us so fast—confirmed cases, public-health warnings, deaths—you could swear the days of the week had been transposed, their order jumbled like everything else. Certainly by Wednesday the handshakes stopped. Hugs weren’t far behind.
James Ross Gardner, "A Week at the Epicenter of the Coronavirus Crisis." The New Yorker, 3/13/2020.
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Hello there. How are you doing?
Like many people (and hopefully everyone reading this), we will be staying close to home for the foreseeable future. Ohio's governor closed the schools for three weeks and is hinting that they may stay closed through the end of the school year; today, they shuttered the eat-in restaurants and bars (you can still get takeout and delivery for now). Sean's office told everyone to work from home. It's clear that the normal we knew is not coming back, at least for a while. Very suddenly, the way we will be spending our time has changed.
I'm very, very lucky in that my work is flexible, wholly remote, and mostly part-time. Still, Hugh's preschool is closed, and we're keeping our distance from my folks, who help us out a lot, so I'm going to have to find new ways to work and parent. This has got me thinking about how exactly to get through these days. What follows is my running list of coping strategies (added to as new things come to mind).
- Early bedtimes (for me, mostly). Being tired makes everything harder. And it's easier to sneak work hours in early than to jam them on to the end of a long day.
- Being outdoors. This is a time for rambling walks in wild places and parks.
- Flexible structures and limited goals. We need to play, read, socialize, and get outside every day; that's it.
- Protecting the flow. Meaning: if we are having fun or engrossed in something, letting that moment last as long as it can instead of shifting into something else.
- Reading aloud, especially short chapter books or poetry (we like the pictures in Gyo Fujikawa's collection and the funny sounds in Ounce Dice Trice). Ideas: Dominic and Abel's Island by William Steig, the Captain Najork books by Russell Hoban, The Magic Pudding by Norman Lindsay, The Light Princess by George MacDonald, "The Jumblies" by Edward Lear, Ronia, the Robber's Daughter by Astrid Lindgren (there's Pippi, too), all the Moomins and old-fashioned fairy tales. And some favorite authors, like Mac Barnett and Oliver Jeffers, are doing daily read-alouds on Instagram.
- Epic crafts—not complicated but definitely involved, meaning projects with multiple parts that can be done in little bits over several days. Examples: Building a cardboard city or making a puppet theater (building the theater, crafting the puppets, then thinking up and acting out the stories).
- Art projects. Bookmarking the Art Bar blog and Hatch Art Studio for ideas.
- Growing things. Eyeing the avocado pits and sprouty sweet potatoes on my counter and rustling up packets of seeds to start a windowsill garden.
- Unearthing abandoned craft kits. Embroidery kit ca. 2015 and woodblock carving kit ca. 2014, I am coming for you! See also: underused specialty kitchen tools.
- Dressing joyfully. Always lifts my spirits to wear favorite things, no matter if anyone sees them, and no matter if they are practical or not.
- Flower census. This time of year, something new pokes up out of the ground or bursts into flower nearly every day. We can keep track in a notebook just for fun.
- Slow media and old media—magazine and newspaper articles; the PBS NewsHour—in discrete amounts (avoid the endless scroll). This is also a perfect moment to pay to subscribe to the news outlets you trust, if you can, or subscribe and buy back issues of a beautiful independent magazine to while away an afternoon. (I'm biased because I am the editor, but this one is pretty special.)
- Thinking small. Ordering from local grocers and small businesses (like toy shops and record stores). Buying gift cards to local restauraunts and businesses and ordering books from beloved bookstores. Switching from big services like Audible to platforms like Libro.fm, where a portion of the proceeds supports a local bookstore.
- Utilitarian baking. Could be a good time to experiment with making bread and noodles.
- Daunting reading—the perfect opportunity to re-read a gripping four-part series about the partition of India, for example, or a massive, thorny novel about authenticity and forgery and worshiping the sun, or a strange fantasy full of abominable, fascinating characters—but also ...
- Comfort reading. Jess recommended an excellent list of books. I'd add Dorothy Sayers' Peter Whimsy books (especially Gaudy Night and The Nine Tailors).
- Comfort viewing. Hugh likes episodes of Nature, This Old House, Paw Patrol (sigh), and the Winnie the Pooh movies, among other things. I'm partial to good adaptations of books (ha, surprise!) and like this, this, this, this, this (MUCH better than the book), and this (this is a classic).
- The Criterion Channel (and also the public library—even though the doors of mine are shut, they still offer streaming, e-books, and audiobooks).
- Screentime to connect: daily video chats with friends and family near and far; texts, messages, and emails. Also: blogging, because it can be distracting and fun.
- Embracing and expanding chores. Hugh already loves to mop; time to see if I can expand his cleaning repertoire.
- Keeping a journal. This is all going to be history one day, and it might be interesting to have a record of just how we spent this time.
- Looking for beauty. Cloud, moon, flowers, each other—always something there to notice.
- Helping. Tipping extra generously. Keeping an eye out for community support efforts (this document is incredible) and opportunities. Volunteering or donating, especially to food banks.
- Patience.
- Acceptance.
- Lots and lots of YouTube yoga.
I don't know what's coming, but it seems the only way forward is to stay apart and come together. So, to that end, if you want to chat books or overpriced sneakers or shade gardening or just need a friendly note, email me (evencleveland [at] gmail dot com) and I will email back and we can be social-distancing penpals.
Take good, good care, friends + much love to you.
